Theft Of Trade Secrets

The Silicon War Triology

Chapter 1 - The Raft

In life, there are the good guys and the bad guys.† Then there are the rest of us
living life from one small moment to the next, unhappy with the outcome of our
lives.† Never standing up for what we really feel that is right no matter what
the cost.† Just watching TV, doing what our parents say (or not) and learning
lessons the hard way.

I was one of the in-betweens, just trying to figure out how I was going
to explain to my father how my best friend, Chris and I got arrested by the US
Coast Guard for nothing much... see we just built a two man submarine, or should
it be said, a two boy submarine.† You see, Chris was 12 and well I... Iím a
mature 11 (almost).

Chris and I had been friends for at least 7 years now, ever since his
dad, Colonel, Charles W. Pederson, USMC and family moved into their 2,250 sq
foot home overlooking the South Laguna coastline in Southern California.†
Pederson had been assign as #2 for the next round of Marines coming out of Camp
Pendleton, CA to go to Korea or where ever.

However, Colonel Pederson was also our Cub Scout leader and his favorite
phrase he drummed into us was "There are people that run away from gun fire and
those that run toward it.† Which are you going to be?"† Well, I found out.† I
was always in the middle of everything.

Chris and I were first in Cub Scouts together and then in Boy Scouts.†
Where Chris built model airplanes, I built model boats.† Everything was Radio
Control this, Radio Control that.† Both of us had our fingers wacked up by our
model propellers and both had to go to the hospital.† To date, Chris got more
stitches, 31 to 27.† You see, everything was a competition between us; no
challenge was ever turned down.† Moreover, no limitation was put on the
outlandish activities we attempted to do by our parents.

Now, the two of us were already well known by the US Coast Guard and to
the Captain of the Point Hatter.† There were the repeated calls by the Camp
Pendleton Marine MPs for getting in the way of landing craft training.† See, we
were just surfing at Trestles and other restricted areas to the south of where
we lived that had great surf.†

Then there was the scuba diving for fish and abalone in restricted areas
that pissed off everyone as well.† However, the air inflated waterbed, now that
was really something.† It shows how our creativity gets simple thing blown all
out of proportion for using something that it wasnít designed for.

There were 7 of us, 2 miles off shore, blown out to sea by the late
summer Santa Ana winds or "Going quickly to Hawaii" as the LA Times reported.†
As always, there in the middle of this was Chris and me.† However, this time
tagging along was my older sister Joann, age 12; her boyfriend, Paul, age 14
and his sister Cathy age 12.† Joannís best friend, Susie Laurence, age 13.†
However, what made this an unforgettable memory for USCG Captain Jerry
Kendrick, Captain of the Hatter, Justin, his 13 year old son was the seventh.

On a routine patrol back from Dania Point, the first call came in that
"people had drifted out to seas."† Rarely did Kendrick open up the Point Hatter
to full speed, but this was one time he had to.† Then a call came in from a
private pilot that had spotted us and stated that there were "four on the life
raft and three in the water.† The boat must have sunk already."† Then came the
calls from the other kidsí parents that we had left behind on the beach that
"chickened out."† Finally, from the parents who had come to pick us up
including the most important parent, his wife, Helen Kendrick.

When first spotted by the lookout of the Hatter, we were 2 mile off
shore and 3 miles south of where we entered at Aliso Beach in South Laguna.†
There were four on the waterbed raft as stated, and there were three in the
water swimming.† Chris, Justin, and I were in the water towing the waterbed back
to shore.† The seven of us had spent the afternoon drifting and goofing around
as any normal kids do during summer vacation.

You see, we had made three towlines out of our tea shirts and used the
girlís tops as a shoulder harness.† Oh, normally I would say, "No big deal" but
my sister will still punch my lights out for saying that.† Three of us swam
while the other four rested.† After 5 minutes, one would rotate out and rest,
and would then be replaced by the most rested.† Of course, as the Hatter
approached, the girls wanted their tops back.

As the Hatter came to rest, it launched their Zodiac powered rubber boat
to "rescue" us.† Susie was the first on board, and as usual, she stopped
everyone in their tracks.† At 13, Susie had long blond hair, breathtaking blue
eyes, a dark tan, and boobs.† In fact, all three girls were drop dead beautiful
and could stop traffic, which they tried their damndest to do.† Oh, ask me some
other time about their dropping their purses in the middle of the Pacific Coast
Highway (PCH) in down town Lagunaís Sunday afternoon traffic.† You know just
south of the movie house where old man Larson used to yell "How are you?"†
Anyway, these girls were the real, 1960 "California Beach Blondes" that the New
York Ad agencies made the marketing "fads" from.

One by one, we were transferred onto the Zodiac, and as always, I was
the last.†

"Hey kid, come on.† Get over here" the Coast Guard guy said.

"Hang-on, are all six on board sir" as I took count to verify that
everyone was on the Zodiac.

See, I was told repeatedly by my father; "No excuse!† Youíre the man and
youíre responsible"!†

With the "yes", I reached up and slid on to the Zodiac, toe line of the
waterbed in hand. †"I donít want to leave this out here; Ok", I said.

He said "Sure", and then with a swipe of a knife, cut a 6-inch gash in
the water bed.† "This will make it fit easer" as the air left making a low
hissing sound.

With one last look around to make sure that everyone was on board, I sat
down with only one thing on his mind, "Now, how in the hell do we explain this
to my dad?"

For us, the ride back to the Hatter went to quick.† However, for Justin,
it lasted a lifetime.† This would be the final straw.† He could already see
that his dad was pissed.† It wouldnít be "I was so afraid you would drown" or
"I was afraid you would be eaten by sharks."† No, it would be "What the hell
were you thinking about.† Again you embarrassed me."

On board, everyone was checked out ok and the Hatter headed back to
Corona Del Mar.† Kendrick received the report that we were just thirsty, now
playing grab ass with each other and wondering why everyone was so upset.

"Come on, itís no big deal.† Weíve swam further before" I said.

Captain Jerry Kendrick just shook his head, looked out at Santa Catalina
Island, and smiled at what he had helped created?†

You see, Kendrick was first our assistant Cub Scout leader and now our
assistant Boy Scout leader under Colonel Peterson.† He had taken us on so many
excursions.† How many open ocean swims?† How many surfing trips to Baja?† How
many trips to Santa Catalina to go deep diving?† How many times did he let us
swim the "last mile home"?† So, if weíd said we would have made it, there was
absolutely no doubt in his mind that we would have.† The problem was, "just how
in the hell do I explain this to my wife, let alone to Command."

On the southeast side of Corona Del Mar - Balboa Harbor, the gray Coast
Guard station was the dropping off and processing area for the Point Hatter.†
With a direct run out of the jetty, the Hatter was within 30 minutes to any of
its assigned rapid response areas.† The "guest quarters" were used to retain
guests until police or parents showed up.† There was the paper work and of
course the charges, both types.

As always, the parents gave the kids a big hug and then the yelling
began.† What a way to tell the kids you love them.† Kendrick knew he was going
to bust Justinís ass over this.† His grades were slipping; he was getting in
fights in school and ditching school to go surfing - total rebellion!

Less than 200 yards north, my parents had just sat down for dinner.† As
long time members of the Balboa Yacht Club, they had an open tab for both
dinner and drinks.† And there were many people to drink and talk with.†
Tonight, Joe (my dad) was talking with Paul Rotifer about buying some
undeveloped land east of there.†

"You know Joe; itís just on the north east side of Orange County
airport, just west of Tustin.† Good farmland now and with that new freeway
running thru it, it will turn into good commercial and residential housing.†
Itís a real gold mine."

As the call came to my father, there was a polite "excuse me", then came
the loud "He did what?† They were where?† God damn it, Iím going to kill him
this time!"

Having been thru this before, my mom was already packing up the dayís
purchases, signed the tab, and said quietly "Now Joe, it canít be that bad."

"No!† The Hatter picked them up 2 miles off shore again.† And whatís
worse, Joann was with him"

Rotifer said, "Damn Joe, you need to put that kid in Military School.†
Did wonders for mine."†

It was a short drive to the station and there was no need to ask
directions on where to go, they already knew.† Joann was the first to see them
and ran to them for the "Hug."† Then there came the long drive home and then
the loud lecture, "How many times have I told you..." and off my dad went with
"the lecture."

Now for me, my life in South Laguna, CA in the 50ís wasnít really that
bad.† In fact, it was great.† I complained a lot, but I was usually able to do
whatever I wanted to within reason.† The family vacations would be camping at
Big Sur or Yosemite for a week.† We had this yellow 1956 Chevy Station Wagon
that towed a gray painted utility trailer that had all our camping gear in it.†
Sometime we went with friends other times just my family.† Those were the best
of times, and we were a very close family because of it.† I cannot remember a
Sunday that we didnít sit down as a family for dinner.† There always was the
"what did you do last week in school.† What are you going to do this week?† Can
we help you with anything?"

From the age of five, I had been making every Revel plastic model I
could find but the Sea Wolf submarine was my favorite.† It was in the bathtub,
in the pool, down at the beach, in Aliso Creek and finally in open ocean.† It
had been depth charged by rocks and strafed by Beebe guns just like in the
movies or on TV.

A good example of how my father influenced my thinking was when other
kids got the "5&Dime" balsa wood gliders for 15 cents, I got a
model kit of a glider with a 36 inch wing span that I had to make first.† It
was never simple for me... I had to make it before I could play with it.

Of course this led into radio control gliders... then into planes and
finally ocean going boats.† I never did figured out how to control a submarine
under water.† And I wasn't the only kid in the area that was doing it.†

Chris Pederson, Reginald (Reg) Fessenden, and I would dog fight our
planes all day until we would crash into each other.† Then my bedroom would
become a mess again as we fixed or built the next version.

Then came the racing or who could fly faster from one point to another.†
This would usually require teams of kids and Boy Scouts was usually where the
bet would start.

This "bet you can't do it" was simple.† Take off from Aliso
Beach, fly south to Dana Point, fly around San Juan Rock and return to Aliso
Beach.† Simple.† Right

Round trip was 6.5 miles.† However, our radio control transmission range
was only 300 yards if lucky.† "The issue was how do we control the plane
if we can't see it?

Simple... team work.† I launched the plane at Aliso Beach and guided it toward
Mussel Cove a mile south where Reg took over.† He would realign the plane to
head the final two miles on its own where Chris would take over, make the turn around
San Juan Rock and send it back to Reg.† Reg would then realign it for Aliso
Beach and me.† I would then land it.

So with a simple "Mom... ah... could you buy three new crystals for
me...." which meant "more chores" for me.† The crystals defined
the frequency the transmitters would transmitted on.† By having the same frequency
in all the transmitters, all three of us could control the same plane.

With a test of the concept successful, we committed to a Saturday flight
with everyone watching.† Of course we were successful.† And that was the
simplest $5.00 we ever made.† We even gave the five to my mom to offset the $36
she spent.

However, as Colonel Pederson watched us that day, what seemed as games
and toys to us, became serious interest to him.